Upon Falling In Love

There have been times in the past three months where I have found myself in situations that I do not want to be in, where I have been thrust into the throngs of a lifestyle that is not me. Most of these situations stem from my saying yes, as I should be doing, to most invitations from the few Quiteños that I know. The following is not one of those situations; in fact it is quite the opposite. I said yes to a last minute invitation that, at nights end, had me feeling tinglies in a silly place...

An Ecuatoriana friend asked me to accompany her to watch her Tango teacher perform at a small theater. The theater is one of my favorites. Walking in the atmosphere is that of a local coffee-shop with solitary candles on top of teak tables, hip waitresses running around serving mocha’s and wine, and posters of classic actresses headlining the movies of their haydays. Downstairs is one of two modern movie theaters that also doubles as a small concert venue. It was here that I spent the evening falling in love.

As I drank a glass of Argentinean wine and listened to the wonderful non-traditional Tango music in the small theater that sat no more than 40, I watched people all around me be in love. There was the new couple whispering sweet nothings and gently holding and caressing each others hands. The older couple, obviously still as much in love as the day they married. The wife of the guitarist knowing every movement of her husbands hands as he set the tone of the concert. The two German girls dreaming of the life they would have with the young, hip, long-haired Cellist. The Tango dancers, partners of nine years, that knew every curve and every movement of each others bodies. The singer, so in love with his craft that you couldn’t help but lean forward to hear every sing-song word that came out of his mouth.

And then there was me and I was in love as well.

Not with a person, nor a fantasy, or finally having a good glass of wine. It was the moment, the unexpected and new nature of my surroundings, the life and energy in the small theater. The realization that I did not want to be anywhere else in the world than watching the song and dance of passion take hold of the hearts of the rooms occupants. And I was happy and most likely glowing, as my friends back home would probably point out. But I was also content with the fact that the night would inevitably end, as it did, and I would return to the normal day-to-day routine of city living the following morning. Because, after having the realization that I did, I knew the next morning would be better, brighter and maybe even safer than the ones that had preceded it. That my insights into the hearts of others would keep me saying yes to invitations that may otherwise put me in situations that I would rather not be in.